If They Only Knew
by Gleek5HT223
Summary: Two girls from alternate worlds collide and realize that they may be falling for one another. How will Quinn and Rachel suffer through the pains of high school while also hiding their secret romance and discovering just how real their feelings for each other are? Quinn/Rachel: FABERRY
1. Chapter 1

**If They Only Knew**

**Chapter 1**

Heavy breathing. Chests heaving up and down. Legs and fingers intertwined. Sheets tangled. The smell of romance and hunger in the air. Eyes locked. Smiles wide. Why were these moments so fleeting? Everything was forbidden about this relationship but in this moment, nothing held them back. They cherished these moments because they came few and far in between.

For one of them, tomorrow would bring another day of flirting with guys in the hallway, party invites, and perfect grades. The view from the top of the social hierarchy was indeed a nice one, but the pressure that comes with it is sometimes too much for her to handle. The pressure for her to be smart, the pressure for her to be beautiful, the pressure for her to be better than her older sister at everything, the pressure for her to be _straight _weighed on her like a 100 pound brick. These pressures seeped into different aspects of her life and transformed into demons that she hid away like her best kept secrets. The only times she felt safe was during the 5, 10, 15 minute rendezvous she cherished with the girl next to her.

For the second girl, tomorrow would bring another day of torment. Parents fighting, being taunted at school, and having an almost nonexistent social life. She grasped onto the belief that nothing would get better for her and that nothing would change. She peered into the piercing hazel eyes across from her and realized that she was the only person in which she could seek solace. But only for these next five minutes. Because once they left this room, their open love and affection for each other had to be stifled. Passionate kisses turned into pursed lips. Deep gazes turned into quick, empty glances. Smiling faces that emoted all the happiness in the world turned into blank, uncaring faces. And all the love that they felt for each other was stashed away, waiting to be unleashed on another night. And during this night, for a few brief, but incredible moments, both girls could be themselves. Both girls could love again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

_Quinn's POV_

The first time we kissed shouldn't have even happened. At all. She shouldn't have even been at that party. She shouldn't have been wearing that dress that hugged her hips like an anxious child hugs her mother. She shouldn't have smiled at me, her lips coated with the perfect amount of lip gloss and dampened by a hint of saliva. She shouldn't have even looked my way, her eyes full of excitement at what was probably her first high school party. I shouldn't have been intoxicated, and my hormones shouldn't have been raging from both the liquor and the lack of contact that my lips have had in the last couple of weeks. All these things shouldn't have happened. Alone, these single events would have meant little. But together, all happening in the same night, they proved to be a lethal combination. All these things shouldn't have happened. But they did. And it changed everything.

_Rachel's POV_

The minute I clicked "attending" to the mass party invite on Facebook, I found myself losing control to fate. I wasn't sure why I did half the things I did tonight. But I learned not to wonder why things happened to me and to just let everything be.

But, my night was still filled with questions and self-doubts. Should I go to this party? Should I wear this tight, black dress that my mom said I shouldn't wear until I'm 18? Where is my lip gloss? Does mom even know how to turn on the new car? Does mom know that she's supposed to use turn signals? Does mom even have her driver's license? Where is 18 Longmeadow Street?

As I stepped into the house, my night changed from being controlled by fate to being controlled by liquor, and as the night flew by, the moments started blurring together. What's Jose Cuervo? What's Keystone? What's Burnett's? Am I drunk? Is that Quinn Fabray? Should I look at her? Am I allowed to do that? Is she looking back at me? Why is she smiling at me? How many fingers am I holding up? Can I feel my face? Why is Quinn feeling my face? What is air? What the hell is happening?

Me losing so much control that night was the most confusing experience. But it happened for a reason, and that reason was for me to meet Quinn.

_That Night_

The bass bumped, hips swayed, and drinks were chugged, as the first major house party of the year was underway. There must've been a hundred students crammed into a house that was only really meant for the five people who lived there, plus a few guests here and there. The potent smell of marijuana drifted in and out of the different rooms of the house, and the air was filled with a thin layer of fog that nobody seemed to mind except for the innocent girl who just walked in. She coughed, waving her hand quickly in front of her face, and looked around. This environment was all new to her, and she wasn't consciously aware of what made her come to this party, alone. Maybe she figured that since it was the beginning of the year, she could make some new friends, ending the taunting and teasing that she was so use to experiencing. She had two friends, but they were both sitting at home on the Internet, disinterested in the outside world, which she normally would've done too if she wasn't tired of that type of life. The type of life where the minutes turn to hours, the hours turn to days, the days turn to weeks of staring at a computer screen, in the same pajamas, with the same plastered smirk on her face, with a bag of never-ending Cheetos in front of her. Maybe she was tired of shutting herself in her room and cranking up her music to drown out the faint, but quickly ascending voice of her dad screaming at her mom. Maybe she was tired of seeing pictures of girls at different parties every weekend, with different groups of friends, posing with duck faces, hips jutted outwards, grabbing each other like their friends were the only people that mattered. Maybe she was tired of letting high school pass her by, so she took a leap of faith and went to the party.

Because she was in no position to make herself any more different to the other high schoolers at that party than she already was, she didn't refuse the drinks that were being passed to her. One, two, three, four. Clear, dark, pink, red. Some sweet, some bitter, some almost too strong for her to handle. But she took every cup that came her way, at first forcing herself to pretend she liked the taste, but then losing feeling in her face and believing she was just drinking water.

To Quinn, this was just another party. Her eyes scanned the room as she thought of which girl she could make out with tonight. She's made out with a few girls, always at a party, always drunk, always claiming that it was just for fun or claiming that she didn't remember it the next morning. Her friends thought she was a free spirit, and casually making out with girls was no big deal. Secretly though, Quinn loved how their smooth faces and soft lips felt against her skin. She loved the faint taste of tequila on their tongues and the delicacy of their movements. It was a much needed, and much wanted, change from the scruff and faint smell of cigarette smoke and cheap beer that she had to endure while making out with some of the guys at these parties. So, when her eyes made their way to Rachel, who was clearly drunk but also clearly beautiful in her tight, black dress, she instantly forgot that Rachel was too far down on the social hierarchy for her to even see which ring she sat on.

She made her way to Rachel and when they made eye contact, Rachel looked baffled, like she had seen a beautiful ghost. The alcohol and the chaotic party atmosphere gave Quinn the chance to be whoever she wanted to be in that very moment, and although Quinn's heart beat fast and her palms began to sweat, she maintained composure and a familiar façade of confidence and control. Quinn, who hungered for a taste of Rachel's lips, decided that there was little need for small talk as she grabbed the cup away from the young girl and lightly grazed her face with her right hand. "Hey I'm Quinn, you're Rachel. We're at a party, and right now you're the most beautiful thing in the room."

Both Rachel and Quinn knew that if any guy had walked up to either of them and said that, they would have laughed, lightly tossed back their hair, and walked away from the loser with the bad pick-up line. But this was Quinn Fabray, and the way she said it to Rachel, as her eyes pierced through her soul, made it seem like Quinn was some sort of deep poet who had just written the most beautiful line that the world has ever read. For Rachel, this was all it took for her to lose her last bit of control for the night, first to fate, then to liquor, and now to Quinn.

They made their way upstairs to a room on the far left of the hallway, weaving in and out of drunken kids, barely avoiding spilled drinks on multiple occasions. As Quinn closed the door, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and leaned back against the dresser, smiling and staring at Rachel. Rachel walked over to her so that she was standing a few inches away from Quinn's body and then started rambling on about her interests, as if Quinn wanted to hang out and have a girls' night. But this was the last thing on Quinn's mind as she softly grabbed Rachel's dress, closing the small gap in between them, and meshing their lips together. A small peck quickly turned into a battle between tongues, with Quinn obviously winning the war.

At first, Rachel assumed that this is what drunk girls do at parties, based on the movies she's seen, so she let it happen. But as her body sunk into Quinn's, as Quinn delicately wrapped her arms around Rachel, as their lips parted for a few brief seconds before tangoing again, and as Quinn smiled into the kisses, Rachel felt like a bubble surrounded her and for once, she felt safe. And for Quinn, there was something so pure and innocent about Rachel that she had never come across before, that she almost felt like from that moment on, a slowly growing fragment of her brain belonged to this girl.

On this night, two worlds collided, and then molded. On this night, everything changed for Rachel and Quinn. But who knows what tomorrow will bring, because tonight, the feelings that they experienced could only be allowed to last for so long, as the party began to die down and the alcohol began to flush out of bodies.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

_The following Monday morning after the party _

_Quinn's POV_

"You're going to have to use more than concealer to cover those up," my older sister Megan laughed as she passed by me in the bathroom. My fingers grazed either side of my neck, as I noticed how the red faded into black, which then faded into blue and purple. My neck looked like a modern art painting, but each mark told a completely different story. On the right side, the light bruise reminded me of her hesitancy during the party as she reluctantly kissed the side of my neck with wavering force. She was unsure of how to handle the situation and me, and I assumed that this was either her first time kissing a girl or her first time kissing anyone, ever. Her innocence and immaturity was a bit of a turn on for me, and I smiled looking at the mark she left.

While the hickey on the right side of my neck represented moments of passion, the mark on the left side of my neck represented power, dominance, and bits of unwanted pain. After Rachel left the room, I quickly searched for Puck, who was my friend with minimal, yet important, benefits. He was popular at school, with his charming smile, and athletic build, and most of the girls went crazy over him. But to me, he was cocky guy who wore too much Axe body spray and bragged too much about his abilities…if you know what I mean. He was also a terribly sloppy kisser whose lips functioned a bit like a vacuum cleaner hose and who was way too overpowering. Kissing him was like eating a sandwich that's too big for your mouth – difficult to handle and exhausting. But the one benefit that making out with Puck does have is that he talks way too much afterwards. He tells everyone in the school about his conquests, and that's just what I needed to distract people from the fact that I spent an hour in some bedroom with Rachel. I hoped people who noticed my hickeys would just assume that both were from Puck.

I sighed heavily as I put more concealer on, trying to dull out the colors of the rainbow on my neck. "Quinn, breakfast is ready!" my mom yelled up the stairs, and I reluctantly walked to the kitchen to where my mom, dad, and Megan were already seated. "Honey, you're not going out with your hair looking like that are you?" my mom said with a hint of disgust. "Uh, yeah what's wrong with it," I replied back. "Should I give you the short answer or the long response," Megan snorted. I rolled my eyes and sat down at the table. Sometimes my family is too "Leave it to Beaver" perfect, and I can't stand it. The expectations to be perfect and to look perfect are always just too high, and Megan is always the reason why the bar continues to be set higher and higher for every aspect of my life. She started droning on about how she could do some scorpion stretch perfectly now in cheerleading and how she got an A on her English paper when everyone else got a B. I tried to drown her nasally voice out as best I could.

I started thinking about my night with Rachel and found myself small smiling as I remembered the way she sunk into my body as we kissed, almost as if I was her sanctuary. I started thinking about the way she could playfully bite her lip when we briefly parted to catch our breath. I thought about the way she would sometimes just stop to look into my eyes and nervously tuck her hair behind her ears as she waited for me to make the next move. It was only one night, one experience, but there was just something about Rachel that made my heart race and my stomach get butterflies. "Yeah it's because she's gay," Meg chuckled. I snapped back to reality as I realized all eyes were on me. "W-what?!" I looked around surprised. "Mom asked why you haven't had any guys over for dinner in a while, and I said it was because you are gay," she smirked. I knew Megan was just trying to be a smart ass, as usual, but my mom and dad did not take her joke lightly and both had displeased…almost disgusted…looks on their face. I started to feel a bit nauseous, but mostly angry at Meg's obnoxiousness and at my mom and dad's facial expressions to a secret that they hoped would not be true. "What the fuck is this, the 1950s? Do I have to have suitors over here all the time to ask for my hand in marriage?" I yelled, as I threw my napkin down and dismissed myself from the table. "Quinn, get back here right now and finish your breakfast," my dad yelled as I grabbed my backpack and opened the front door. But before I slammed the door behind me, I turned to look over my left shoulder and yelled, "By the way, I am NOT gay!" And with that, I quickly walked away from my house.

_Rachel's POV_

Some days I didn't even need an alarm clock to wake me up in the morning. My dad screaming at my mom was all it took. I heard glass shatter downstairs as I jumped out of my bed and sprinted downstairs. My dad was inches away from my mom's face and tears flowed from her eyes. I ran over and squeezed myself between them, shoving my dad away from my mom. The glass that I heard shatter moments ago lay in pieces near the far right wall, and I knew that my dad threw it in anger.

My parents fought all the time but liked to pretend like I didn't know that their marriage was broken. I think they believed that since I spent so much time in my room, I was unaware of what was going on outside of it, almost as if I lived in some protected, fantasy world. But I could hear the screaming and the crying every time, and there were several times where I had to break them apart before things escalated too much.

"Rach-Rachel, go get ready for school baby," my mom stammered as she quickly rushed out of the room. My dad remained silent, his eyes caring a small amount of guilt, not for yelling at my mom, but for yelling so loudly that I had to come downstairs and stop things. We locked eyes for a moment, and I hoped that my eyes conveyed what I was thinking – _do not pull that shit again._ I walked away and quickly got dressed, before escaping the hell hole that was my house.

The interesting thing about my life is that when I leave my hell hole house in the morning, I only have about 10 minutes of peace before returning back into a different sort of hell hole – school. I am constantly, no exaggeration, constantly teased for the littlest things. My hair, my height, my music interests, my outfits, you name it. Anything that has to do with me probably has been used against me in some way at some point. Sometimes I think the popular kids are so obsessed with maintaining this social hierarchy that they'll do anything and everything to make sure that everyone feels beneath them. I was especially nervous today though after what happened with Quinn this past Saturday. We were both drunk, but I remembered every detail, and I'm not sure I regretted what I did. Girls make-out with girls all the time at parties right? I kept telling myself this to excuse what happened if Quinn passed it off as a mistake, but I couldn't deny that kissing her was kind of…nice, and it almost felt special. I wondered if she felt the same. I spent the full ten minutes walking to school thinking of what I would do when I passed her in school, and how she would respond. As I walked through the school doors, she was the first person my eyes fell upon. My heart started beating faster as I tried to make up my mind as to what I was going to do. The next few moments were like a slow motion scene from a movie.

I walked down the hallway with my head held high as she ran her hand through her hair and turned to look at me. We made eye contact, and I thought I saw a hint of a smile. She blinked a few times and continued to look at me as I got closer and began to close the gap between us. Her lips parted slightly and she looked like she was going to say something. I smiled and began to say "Heeeeeyyyy –" when a foot literally came out of nowhere and tripped me. I fell face first and my chin slammed into the ground. I bit my tongue, hard, and a couple drops of blood started trickling from my mouth. I slowly pushed myself off the ground before looking up and seeing that the foot that tripped me was connected to Puck. "Morning Rachel," he smiled as the girls around him, including Quinn, threw back their heads and laughed. "You shouldn't be so clumsy, Rachel, you could hurt yourself," said Santana, a thin brunette, lightly tanned, model of a girl, as she smirked at me.

Both Puck and Santana then looked at Quinn, waiting for some sort of approval or back-up, and after a few seconds that seemed to last forever for me, she simply said, "Yeah Rachel, stop being so damn clumsy." There was enough disdain in her voice for Puck and Santana, and they seemed to like that response enough for them to be able to move on with their lives. Santana then began talking about this Friday's upcoming party, even though it was only Monday. Quinn's words would have hurt me much more than the fall did if I hadn't noticed what Puck and Santana failed to see: a faint wave of uncertainty, and what looked like guilt, in Quinn's eyes as she spoke to me.

As I slowly walked away from the group, Quinn cleared her throat and said, almost a little too unnaturally loud, "Yeah, the party on Friday at Brittany's should be really fun. She lives down the road from Sugar right?" "Quinn, you've been there before, why are you acting like you don't know where she lives," Santana asked with a confused look on her face. "Yeah, of course, I was just making sure. You know how crappy my sense of direction is," she laughed. Santana passed it off as a ditzy moment, but I knew from the change in her voice and the quick side-glances my way what Quinn was trying to accomplish. I don't know why she was acting so shady, but I needed to talk to her about the party two nights ago. I guess the only way to do so is to see her this Friday at Brittany's.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Quinn'_s POV_

It's crazy how one person's comments can change how you feel about yourself. It can infect your brain like a virus and alter everything you thought you were so sure of. It can lower your self-esteem and break you down until you feel like nothing. It can replay in your mind thousands of times every day, while you start to convince yourself that it may be true.

"Nice try Quinn," Megan smirked as she walked by my room. "What?" I spat back. "Nice try looking good in that dress. It doesn't work for you. Sorry," she said, almost matter-of-factly, as she tossed her hair back and sauntered away. My heart sank as I stared at myself in the mirror. Mere seconds ago, I thought I looked perfect for Brittany's party. My hair was the perfect amount of wavy, and the dark blue dress I was wearing seemed to hug my curves in all the right ways. I had put on a tiny bit of lipstick to make my lips pop and a hint of eyeliner to bring out the green in my eyes. A few seconds ago I thought I looked perfect, and now all I saw in the mirror was something hideous.

_My hair is too frizzy and this lipstick makes me look like my mom. Is that a zit I see on my forehead? I think I put too much eyeliner on. This dress makes me look like a whale. _ The thoughts raced through my mind as my mom popped her head in my room and asked why I didn't eat dinner. "I'm just not hungry mom," I said as she sighed and closed the door. I didn't eat much today, only a granola bar and a few crackers. But I never really eat much because I just feel so…fat. I grabbed the skin under my arm and just felt disgusted with myself. Tears formed in my eyes as my phone buzzed and I noticed that I had a text from Santana.

**Get your fat ass out here, time to partyyyyy! ;)**

Santana and I always had that type of friendship where we jokingly make fun of each other, but tonight it just further affirmed what I was already thinking. I sulkily walked out to her car and hopped into the passenger seat. "Why are you frowning? There's no time for frowning on a night like tonight? What's wrong hun?" she said. "Nothing, I'm fine…I just…" I tried to think of a suitable lie to cover up my hurt. "I just think I lost my favorite beanie. The one I got in New York last year," I said. "Oh. That sucks." The concern that Santana expresses for people is sometimes so fleeting.

We pulled into Brittany's driveway and the bass from a David Guetta song was radiating off her walls. Brittany's house was further back off the main road towards the woods, so she was able to have outrageously loud parties without getting noise complaints. We walked down her long driveway and toward the front door. From behind me, I could hear a whistle, and when I turned around, it was a drunk Puck, eyeing me like I was a piece of juicy steak. He grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him before I could step into the house, and his friends chuckled as he licked his lips and whispered in my ear, "You look sexy, and I can't wait to see you out of that dress." He was such a pig, but I couldn't let him, or anyone else know that. I looked to my right and Santana was smirking at me as she waited for me to join her. The look in her eyes said, _lucky you, about to get laid tonight. _I faked a smile at Puck and gently removed his hands off of me even though I wanted nothing more than to slap him. But I guess I put myself in this position. He was using me for the same reason I used him. For a hookup. But our intentions beneath that reason were completely different.

I walked into the room and Brittany stumbled over to me with two drinks in her hand. She was clearly wasted, her eyes were bloodshot and glazed over. "Quinn!" she yelled, draping her arms over me as the drinks in her hand spilled behind me. "So glad you're here! Here's some Jungle Juice. Kitty made it, so drink with caution. Actually, forget that, drink up!" She said shoving the drink in my face and tilting the lid to my mouth. I grabbed the cup before Kitty's concoction hit my lips. "Thanks Brittany," I said absentmindedly as I scanned the room. I was hoping to see Rachel but all I saw were drunk bodies falling all over each other.

I continued to gaze around the room until I noticed that Kitty had kind of snuck up on me. "What you don't like my drink," she asked with stern face. "No, no, it's great Kitty," I said taking a sip. It tasted absolutely awful, like rubbing alcohol mixed with fruit punch, and I hoped that Kitty would never become a bartender. I spent the next few seconds trying to control the muscles in my face so that they didn't reveal my lie. "If you like it as much as you say you do, you should drink more," she said, with an "I call bullshit, and you needed to be drunk like five minutes ago" type of face. I sighed and chugged the rest of my drink, wondering how quickly it would hit me since there was probably eight different kinds of alcohol in it and I had barely eaten today. "We're playing Never Have I Ever in the kitchen, c'mon," she said, grabbing my hair and walking me over to the island in the kitchen.

I hated this game because it was a game where all I did was tell lies. "Never have I ever had sex, " Sugar said, as the majority of us put one of our fingers down, indicating that we had. I thought back to that night with Puck and almost vomited the little liquor I had in me. "Never have I ever kissed a girl!" our friend, Lauren, yelled from across the island. Kitty smirked at me as we, along with Santana and Brittany, put our fingers down. Kitty shrugged, "Hey what happens at parties, stays at parties, right?" The girls laughed and nodded in agreement, while my face remained neutral. Rachel still wasn't here and I was starting to lose faith that she would come. But then, everything hit at once. My vision started the blur as Kitty began to slur, "Never have I ever had a crush on a girl." And right on cue, the front door opened and Rachel hesitantly walked in. She was wearing the same tight, black dress she wore last week, and I started to assume that was the only party dress she owned. But it didn't matter, it still had the same effect on me tonight as it did last Saturday. I absentmindedly put one of my fingers down and Santana giggled, "Wow Quinn, I always knew you liked me." "What?" I stammered as I noticed one of my fingers was down. "Oh no, sorry, I didn't hear what you said," I lied, as I continued to stare at Rachel.

Each of the girls' eyes slowly turned to who I was staring at. "Who the hell invited her?" Santana said as she grabbed a drink and walked over to Rachel. "Rachel, what the fuck are you doing here, nobody invited you so leave." "I-I…Quinn…" she said weakly, looking over at me with hopeful eyes. I started walking over, unsure of what I was going to do, but before I could reach her, Santana threw the drink all over her black dress. Rachel stood there, with a shocked look on her face, and then turned quickly and ran out of the house as Kitty started cracking up behind us. "Good riddance," Santana said as she walked back to the island and resumed Never Have I Ever. "Quinn, get over here!" She yelled to me. "I have to pee," I said quickly and started walking toward the front door. "Quinn, the bathroom is THAT way!" Brittany yelled behind me as I ran out to find Rachel.

I saw her running down the street and I made my way toward her. "Rach—" I said before I felt my arm being grabbed. "Ready to show me what you got, Fabray?" Quin smirked. I jerked my hand away from him and started running after Rachel.

_Rachel's POV_

My eyes stung, as I tried to blink out the little bit of alcohol that splashed up into my face from Santana's drink. How could she be so cruel? And why did I even decide to come to this party, thinking that Quinn wanted to see me. I started sobbing, feeling regretful and embarrassed about what just happened, when I felt a hand softly grab my wrist. She turned me around and I looked right into her glossy, green eyes. "Rachel…" she whispered, pulling me behind one of the parked cars that would keep us hidden from anyone walking down the road. "Rachel, I'm so sorry," she slurred and her hand fumbled with my dress, trying to wipe off the alcohol that had already sunk into the fabric. "Quinn, I shouldn't have come here…" I trailed off as her lips pressed against mine. I was completely sober, but this kiss gave me the same feelings that I had last Saturday. The butterflies came rushing in, as she deepened the kiss and held both sides of my face. I felt my body grow weak as she moved her hands to the small of my back and pulled me closer. It was the taste of alcohol on her tongue that brought me back to reality, as I pushed her off and yelled, "Quinn, you don't even know what you're doing right now!" "I want you, Rachel," she whispered. "No you don't. You're drunk and you want…you want…a plaything! You can't just go around making out with someone at parties and then treating them like crap when you're around your friends!"

We both knew that I struck a nerve. "Rachel, you don't understand," she said weakly, as tears formed in her eyes. "I want you," she repeated, but more timidly this time. "Quinn, you're drunk," I replied. "I have to be, Rachel." "Why?" "Because, I can't go around kissing girls sober. That's not who I am. That's not who I want to be." I suddenly felt bad for her. She was clearly battling something bigger than this drunken situation. "Quinn, I came to this party hoping to talk to you about last Saturday. We can't talk about this now, this needs to happen when you're sober," I paused. "I'll be home all day tomorrow. I live at 21 Eastbrook Road…come over. We can talk then." She nodded her head and murmured "okay" before slowly started walking. I was nervous to hear what she had to say, but I think I was more nervous at the fact that this is the first person that I have ever invited over to my house. The hell-hole. I just hoped my parents would find a way to get along for the day.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

_Quinn's POV_

I lay on my bed watching the numbers on my digital clock change slowly. Minutes turned into hours as I just lay there, hoping that some force who make me get up and drive to Rachel's house.

Part of me just wanted to brush the last week off as a random hookup. I wanted to move on with my life and not have to face the skeletons that I had buried and guarded in my closet. I wanted life to be easy. Go to a party on Friday, get drunk, hook up with another straight girl who would say she also didn't remember what happened the following morning, use Puck to cover my tracks, and then wake up and do it all over again on Saturday. Rachel and I barely knew each other, so why should I open myself up to her and make myself vulnerable?

But another part of me wanted…needed…someone to talk. My other friends just cared about parties and guys and weren't really ones to empathize strongly with me. Brittany was the only person that I could truly talk to, but I don't think she would understand me being ga—. _No. Stop Quinn. You're not…you don't like girls. Don't label yourself. _But as I thought back to my weekend habits and the feelings Rachel gave me when we kissed, I knew in my heart that I was just lying to myself. So I decided to let fate choose what happened to me. I got off my bed and grabbed a quarter off my desk. _Alright Quinn, heads means you go see Rachel, tails means you don't. Here goes nothing._ I flipped the coin with my index finger and thumb, caught it, and flipped it over once onto the back of my hand. I then slowly revealed what side the coin showed, and looked down.

_Oh._

_Rachel's POV_

I sat at my desk, scrolling down my Twitter feed and quickly glanced at the clock. It read 11pm and I don't know why I still had hope that she would come. I decided to look up her recent Twitter update to see what she was up to. Since we weren't following each other, I had to search her name, and luckily her tweets were unprotected. The most recent tweet at the top of her page made my heart sink.

**Bonfire with the girls #partypartyparty**

There was an Instagram link below the tweet, and I quickly clicked it. There was Quinn, with her friends Santana, Sugar, Brittany, and Kitty posing with duck faces and with red Solo cups in their hands. Puck was behind Quinn, trying to photobomb the group picture. I don't know why I expected so much from Quinn, but she let me down again. Maybe I was just some random hookup to her at that party. Maybe I was naïve to think that things would be different this year and that that party would change high school for me.

So as my dad began to yell at my mom downstairs, as I shoved my headphones into my ears and cranked up the volume, as I opened the bag of almonds in front of me and continued to browse the Internet, I felt a sense of familiarity in this routine. My life was back to normal, whether I liked it or not.

_Quinn's POV_

"Quinn, if you're going to hook up with Puck every weekend, you guys might as well date," Kitty said to me as I glared at my phone and scanned through my Twitter feed. "Or she could date me…since ya know…we have history together now," Santana laughed. I tried to zone out from what my friends were saying because I did not want to relive Friday night.

My sober regrets from Friday afternoon leaked into that night as I attempted to drown out all thoughts of Rachel with alcohol. But sober regrets quickly transformed into a drunken desire for comfort. I thought I could find comfort in familiarity and routine, so I thought if I hooked up with someone else, all would be back to normal. Unfortunately, that person ended up being Santana, and it quickly became a joke among our group of friends that Santana and I were the new power couple.

Santana started joking with Kitty that she needed to improve her drink mixing skills, when out of the corner of my eye I saw the girl that I wanted to avoid but so desperately needed to be around. As Rachel quickly walked down the hall toward me, it was then that Santana decided it was the perfect time to revisit our drunken hookup. "You know, Quinn, you're a good kisser and all, but I think I'm going to have to break up with you for Finn. He was looking so hot at the bonfire. Pun intended," she giggled. Rachel was inches away from me, and we briefly made eye contact before she attempted to shuffle around my group of friends and continue on to her locker. In that moment, I saw the hurt in her eyes and knew that it wasn't just hurt from the fact that Santana and I kissed, but also built-up hurt from everything that happened between us over the last week. And unfortunately, the hurt would continue to build as Santana noticed Rachel was near us.

"Oh, speaking of Rachel!" she said with a devious face. Although none of us were talking about Rachel, Santana wanted to make it a point to get her attention. Rachel stopped in her tracks as Santana continued to speak. "Guys, guess what I found the other day when I was on Twitter?" Nobody responded as we all waited for her to answer her own question. "I found Rachel's little Barbara Streisand Twitter fan account," she laughed as Rachel's face turned to sheer embarrassment. She realized what Santana's intentions were and started walking away. "Hey, I'm talking to you!" Santana said, grabbing Rachel's shirt and pushing her lightly into a locker door. "Santana, just leave her alone," I said angrily. "What Fabray? You didn't seem to mind on Friday!" My mind flashed back to Puck tripping Rachel in the hallway last Monday and then to Santana throwing her drink on Rachel at Friday's party and how I didn't make enough of an attempt to stop or remedy either incident. And now, I still couldn't bring myself to push Santana away from Rachel. I couldn't have people suspecting my feelings towards her, so I prayed for some miracle that Santana would just stop on her own. But she didn't. She continued to grab onto Rachel's shirt and mock her. "So, tell us about that Twitter account, Rachel…"

_Rachel's POV_

Tears began to collect in my eyes before spilling out like a waterfall. "Please, just leave me alone," I whispered, lowering my eyes because I knew that Quinn wouldn't help me. "Santana, I think that's enough. Don't waste your time…" Brittany said timidly. "Yeah…" Quinn agreed weakly. Santana looked back at her friends, some of whom were smirking and some who shifted uncomfortably as they watched. Santana and I then made eye contact and her brows furrowed as she let go of my shirt and lightly shoved me to the side. "You're right. So where were we about Kitty's bartending skills," she said, as the poison in her voice was replaced with a lighthearted, carefree laugh.

I lightly jogged away from the group of girls and turned the corner into an empty hallway, where I threw down my backpack, sunk to the floor and started sobbing in my hands. I was used to being bullied, but ever since my first encounter with Quinn it, for some reason, had gotten so much worse. Fighting at home and fighting at school…I just couldn't escape it. I laid my head back against one of the lockers and sighed as the tears continued to silently roll down my cheeks. Suddenly, I felt my phone buzz and noticed that I had one new Facebook message from Quinn.

**You have every right to hate me. You were right, I have treated you like crap, but it's because I'm afraid. I guess that's a terrible excuse for everything that's happened, but I do want to talk…if you'll still let me. I'll understand if you don't though. Just know that I'm so sorry about everything, and if I could take it all back, I would. **

I re-read her message three times, trying to figure out how I wanted to respond. It's been one week and I've made myself vulnerable to her three times. Each time, I've been disappointed. I couldn't keep letting her do this to me. But for some reason, I couldn't stop myself from hoping that things would get better. _One more chance_, I promised myself. _She gets one more chance._

**K. ** **21 Eastbrook Road. **I typed, implying that I was giving her one more chance to come over and talk. **I'll be home at 3. See you then.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

_Quinn's POV_

Everyone has a secret. It could be something relatively small, something that if people found out, you could just laugh it off as a bad habit. Or it could be something much larger. Something that is a part of who you are but that you vow never to reveal. Something that you so desperately hide, but something that you so badly need to get off your chest. Something that you hope people can accept, but you still fear every day that it could ruin you.

It was 2:30pm, and I sat in my car in Rachel's driveway staring at her front door. She said she would be home at 3, but I needed to be there early. I needed to show her that I was serious about talking to her. I also knew that if I didn't come early, I would eventually talk myself out of going to her house.

My palms were sweating and my heart started racing to the point where I felt like I was having a heart attack. I felt myself start to hyperventilate and my head started to hurt as I struggled to convince myself not to leave. I was about to tell Rachel the one thing that I never wanted to tell anyone. I was about to be honest with myself and it scared the crap out of me because I don't think I've ever been able to shed the layers of lies that surrounded me like a forcefield. I was about to leave myself vulnerable, and I tried to decide if I was terrified of the situation or relieved at this opportunity.

Time proved to be my worst enemy today and the minutes changed as slowly as a sloth moving through quicksand. Finally, the clock in my car struck 3, and the heavens opened as Rachel's dad pulled into the driveway right next to my car, with Rachel in the passenger seat. She looked over at me with the most surprised look on her face, and I knew that even though she had given me another chance to talk, she had such little faith in me that she believed I wouldn't come. And that feeling hurt…knowing that you have let someone down so much that they can't trust you. I needed to fix this.

"Hi Quinn," she said with a small smile as I stepped out of the car. "Hi Rachel," I said nervously, playing with the hair tie on my wrist. "Let's go up to my room and talk, okay?" she said, noticing I was nervous and gently placing her hand on my shoulder. I gulped and nodded slowly as I followed her into her house and up the stairs. Once we got to her room, she plopped onto her bed and patted the space next to her, indicating that she wanted me to sit by her. I slowly approached her and hesitantly sat down, as I continued to stare at my hands and avoid eye contact with her.

"Quinn?" she said, placing her hand on mine. "Y-yeah" I stammered. "I know you're nervous to talk, but you shouldn't be. I don't want you to talk about anything you don't want to talk about, but I just want to know why you've been treating me a certain way when we're alone and then differently when you're around your friends. I don't know whether you hate me or you like me. I don't know if I am doing something wrong. I just don't know." Hearing her question whether SHE was the one doing something wrong made me feel sick. I felt my lips and my tongue dry up as I struggled to choke any words out of my mouth. "I need something to drink" I finally managed to say. "Okay, well let's go downstairs and see what I have. Are you hungry?" I shook my head furiously, which was my first lie of the day. I hoped that it would be my last. I hadn't eaten anything that day, but I couldn't stomach any food right now. It made me sick thinking about what I was going to admit to her soon.

As we walked downstairs, I could hear someone angrily muttering from the kitchen. "I'm sick of this. We both know that without me, you would be nothing." I guess Rachel heard it too because before we even set foot at the bottom of the stairs she quickly grabbed my hand and started leading me back upstairs. Once we were back in her room, I looked at her face and noticed tears forming in her eyes. She quickly blinked, and they were gone, but her face continued to turn red as she cleared her throat. "I'm sorry about that, my dad must have had a rough day at work." The way she was now avoiding eye contact with me and the way she nervously played with her hair made me feel like she also told her first lie of the day. "I understand, it's okay. Parents get angry and say things they don't mean, it's fine." "I guess," she responded quietly. It pained me to see her so upset, so I figured I could change the conversation.

"Hey, so what type of music do you listen to?" Awkwardness filled the room as we both knew that it was superficial question intended to distract Rachel from what was going on downstairs. "Um, well, as you probably know, I like Barbara Streisand." A pang of guilt filled my chest as I remembered how Santana teased Rachel about her Barbara Streisand Twitter account. "I also like Celine Dion. To be honest, I like a lot of different things. My iTunes library is a bit of a hot mess," she smiled. "Alright, let's see what you have. Put it on shuffle and let's see what comes up," I said. I wanted to get to know Rachel, and it seemed like music was important to her. When she talked about music, it was the first time I had seen her smile since the first time we kissed at the party. She walked over to her computer, pulled up iTunes, and pressed the shuffle button. I was excited to hear what would start playing until the song actually started playing. The nauseous feelings returned as Katy Perry started singing the first lines "I Kissed A Girl":

_This was never the way I planned, not my intention._

_I got so brave, drink in hand, lost my discretion_

_It's not what I'm used to, just wanna try you on._

_I'm curious for you, caught my attention._

We both sat there, mouths open, staring at her computer. This must have been God's way of saying, "It is time to speak up my child." _Fuck. _

Rachel started fumbling with the mouse and quickly clicking around until the song finally stopped right before the chorus. "Umm, yeah, my library is pretty…umm…" she couldn't finish her sentence. "Yeah," was all I could say. We sat in silence, waiting for the other to say something. I took a deep breath, knowing that I had to find the courage to speak up. "I guess that's a good segway into what I need to say." As I began to speak, it became harder to breathe and my hands began to tremble. I hated everything about being in this situation but deep in my heart, I knew it would happen at some point. I looked up and into her eyes, waiting to see a flash of judgment because I knew that she knew what I was going to say. But I didn't see judgment. I saw patience. I saw understanding. I saw kindness.

"Rachel…this is…this is really hard for me." "I know," she said softly. "I've been acting differently around you in public because I don't know how to be honest about this…I don't know how to be honest with myself. I know you've been questioning how I feel about you, and to be honest, how I am around you when you and I are alone is the real me." I paused. "Wait, no, that's not entirely what I mean. We've only been alone together when I'm drunk. But honestly, the alcohol makes it easier to be open. What I'm trying to say is…" I paused again, trying to regain my composure. "I like…people." _Wow Quinn, way to be vague. _She smiled, "Well I like people too, so we have something in common." I laughed lightly and looked back up at her. "Do you get what I'm trying to say though?" She nodded and took a deep breath. "Quinn, I know what you're trying to say, but I also know that you don't want to outright say it. I know that the words that you want to say probably terrify you. You don't need to pin a label on yourself, but I think it's important that you are honest with _yourself _about what you want…whether it's me or…or some other…person," she said cautiously.

"Am I the first person you've told about this?" she asked. I nodded my head. "Have you considered telling your other friends?" "No," I said definitively. She had struck a bit of a nerve. "How come?" "Because I can't." "I'm sure you can, Quinn." "No, I can't, you don't understand." "Why won't I understand?" she questioned, brows furrowed. "BECAUSE YOU DON'T HAVE FRIENDS!" I yelled. Then, silence. The edges of her mouth turned downwards, and she suddenly looked down.

"Shit, Rachel I didn't mean that, I'm so sorry." "You did mean it. But I'm sorry I pushed you about it. I know this is tough for you." _How could this girl be so understanding?_ "It still wasn't right for me to say it," I said apologetically. She nodded, and I continued talking. "I'm still trying to come to terms with everything myself, and I can't tell my friends or family because how can I expect them to understand something that I still don't?" "You know, you can always talk to me. I would never judge you." "I don't know why you're being so nice to me when I've treated you like crap," I said breaking eye contact with her. "It's because sometimes you just need the support from someone who knows what you're going through."

I don't know why this surprised me so much. "W-what do you mean? Did you…did you like the kiss?" I asked slowly. "I think I did? To be honest, I've never really kissed anyone so, no offense, I don't really have much to compare it to. But, I can't lie and say that I didn't feel something. I guess I'm like you, just trying to figure things out." _What are the odds? _I thought. I guess I expected her to be like every other straight girl I've hooked up with, just another girl looking for a thrill, trying to feed some drunken desire. She smiled at me, and I couldn't help but return the smile.

_And she said,_

_How do you know me so well?_

_After only one night…_

_How do I love you? tell me,_

_With all of my might…_

_I'm indebted to you_

_I'm indebted to you always_

My phone started playing my ringtone, I'm Indebted to You by Lana Del Rey, and I couldn't help but think, _sometimes a song can explain your life so well and speak the words that you never could_. I saw that Kitty was calling. "Hey Kitty." "Hey girl, we're going shopping, you in?" "I'm kind of busy right now Kitty." "Doing what?" she asked curiously. "Umm…I'm doing homework." My second lie of the day. Rachel looked down and started biting her lip. "Okay well finish whatever homework you're doing quickly. I'm giving you thirty minutes, I'll swing by your house then," and with that, Kitty hung up with the intention of having the last word before I could protest. "I have to go," I said quietly to Rachel. "Okay," she responded, nodding her head, but still looking down.

"Hey, look at me," I said, gently placing my index finger under her chin and lifting up her head so that our eyes met. "Thank you," I smiled. "I can't guarantee that everything will be fine and out in the open tomorrow….or next month…or even next year. I need everything to be as normal as possible out there," I said pointing out the window, "while I try to figure things out. But when I'm with you, I promise to be one hundred percent open and honest. What you see right now, that's me. Not whatever you see out there. I know this isn't an easy request, but please be patient with me." "Okay," she murmured. "I'll do what I can to make this easier for you. But Quinn…" "Yeah Rachel?" "I like sober you." "Me too," I smiled.

Talking with Rachel today was a milestone of an achievement for me. I felt a weight being lifted off of me not only because this is the first time that I have talked to Rachel while sober, but it was also the first time that I didn't feel so mentally tired. It was the first time that I didn't have to focus energy on concealing feelings or covering up my hookups or just plain lying to myself. I felt free. I felt true. And I finally felt like me. Rachel was my clarity and with her, I felt safe. But as I put my jacket on and walked out of her room, I felt the weight of a thousand lies drape over me once again. I couldn't help but worry what tomorrow would bring.


End file.
